The Sweet and The Sickening
Technorati tags: Sarcasm, Police, Baklava, Balaclava, Anwar Ibrahim
Baklava - one of planet Earth's tastiest desserts
(picture from About.com)
This is a slice of Baklava - an uber delicious and sweet Mediterranean snack consisting of honey, nuts and sweetness-drenched multi-layered pastry. Supposedly, it actually originates from Turkey, although one can find it pretty much throughout the Mediterranean region, each area with its local variant.
And it is probably Walski's hands-down favorite desserts in the whole wide expanse of planet Earth. Many desserts have tried to dethrone the mighty Baklava's reign on Walski's palate - and just about all have failed.
Walski thinks that Baklava is sickeningly delicious. Which is a good thing. Try to gobble up a whole plate of it at one sitting, and you'll know why.
(the entirely sickening, and more, in the full post)
On the other hand, you have the image of a policeman donning something called a balaclava. Similar spelling, and one can easily mispronounce it the same as the sickeningly sweet dessert.
Except that there's absolutely nothing sweet about the balaclava - only sickening, to Walski. Just ask Nurul Izzah, MP and daughter of Anwar Ibrahim (emphasis by myAsylum):
Dad was arrested by the cops whilst on his way to the IPK to give his statement. The cops gave till 2pm for dad to report but still arrested him before the deadline. Dad was on his way back home to have lunch in Bukit Segambut, and then head to the IPK but the cops blocked off the road and arrested him like a criminal. And the cops who arrested him were Special Squad cops with balaclavas!!! Is that necessary!!!
(source: Nurul Izzah Anwar)
Reports of Anwar being manhandled during the arrest do not surprise Walski one single bit. Having personally witnessed the brutality of these police goons in balaclavas, Walski will tell you straight off that there's no love lost for these bastards. Allow him tell you a story.
Many years ago in the 1990's, in a Damansara Heights pub called Street Connection, these Special Action Force guys (Unit Tindakan Khas, or UTK), stormed into the club armed with shotguns, machine guns and an assortment of other equally lethal firearms, a few of them having their balaclavas on. They were there supposedly to apprehend members of the Bentong Kali gang. A musician friend of Walski's was at the time playing on the small stage and was taken by surprise by the storming in of the UTK. The musician was yanked (literally) off the stage, thrown to the floor, and subsequently knocked out cold, courtesy of a blow to the side of his face. His crime? Not moving fast enough for the UTK's liking.
Shotgun Butt 1 - Musician 0.
The musician, fortunately, did not suffer any lasting injuries, as far as Walski knows, and continues to perform to this day. Walski found out later that the suspects had already been apprehended before the UTK even stormed into the pub. And for what? To terrorize for fun? In the presence of these goons, you're a criminal unless proven otherwise. Frequently, you find yourself on the wrong side of a firearm of some variety.
Shoot first, then maybe ask later.
Suffice it to say, Walski has a very low opinion of these legalized Malaysian gangsters. If anyone behaves, on duty, like they are above the law - nay, like there is NO law - it's these UTK brutes. It probably takes a person of absolutely no conscience whatsoever to be one of them.
To put things into context, the pub Walski mentioned used to be in the small block of shoplots just around the corner from where the Blog House is, along Lorong Setiabistari 2. To put the UTK into context, one of their members currently stands accused for the brutal and grissly murder of Altantuya.
The mere mention of balaclavas takes Walski's mind back to that very night in Damansara Heights. It makes him wonder sometimes what kind of sick sadist hides behind the balaclava, law on their side, and frequently behaving like they're above it. They're violent automatons who follow orders, to put it simply. If asked to blow the head off a child with a sawn-off shotgun, they'd probably do it without hesitation. Maybe even ask, "Into how many pieces?".
Walski really wonders sometimes how they sleep at night. One thing he's quite sure of, though - these goons in balaclavas don't have sweet dreams of baklava...